Together Without You
by Noda2
Summary: Sam and Jack reflect on Sam's new relationship in "Chimera"


I know this has been done a million times before, so lets make this one million and one. No real plot, just another exposition on what Sam and Jack might have been thinking around the time of "Chimera."

Together Without You

_Humming,_ Jack thought as the elevator doors closed, twenty-one levels beneath NORAD. _Carter was humming, for cryin' out loud! Carter never hummed. Had he _ever_ heard her hum? And that tune. He knew it, but what was it? _Jack cleared his throat.

"Humming?"

Sam looked nearly as uncomfortable as he felt. **"**I am?"

"You are."

She turned slightly and met his gaze, then quickly looked away. **"**Sorry."

Jack tried to swallow against the lump in his throat. "What's his name?"

**"**Now, why. . ."

**"**Humming."

She hesitated long enough for him to have a split-second of hope. **"**Pete."

**"**Pete," he repeated, hating that he was right, already hating the name.

"Pete Shanahan. He's a cop."

**"**Speeding again, are we?" He tried to joke to cover the pain knifing through him. There really **was** a guy.

**"**From Denver. He's a friend of my brother's."

Jack wanted to ask how her brother knew someone in Denver, but there were any number of reasons Mark Carter's path could have crossed this guy's. "A setup?" He asked instead.

**"**Pathetic, I know." She seemed embarrassed, and he wondered why. Jack didn't think her lack of male companionship outside the mountain as being pathetic. True, he'd told her to "get a life" on more than one occasion, but this wasn't what he'd had in mind. Joining a book group, taking up gardening. Taking up some **thing**, not some **one**.

**"**No, it's great," he managed.

**"**Really?"

**"**Isn't it?" He hoped he hadn't sounded as eager to her as he had to himself.

**"**Well, it's not serious or anything," she shrugged.

**"**And yet, it is. . .hum-worthy."

**"**Sir. . . ." He'd gotten to her with that last one, he realized. He could hear the placating tone in her voice. Even now she was trying to take the blame for his pain when the only thing she'd done was mention some guy's name and hum a little.

**"**Now, Carter, it's none of my business. I'm just happy that you're happy about something other than. . .quarks." He had literally grasped for that last word, but was immensely proud he'd come up with an appropriate space term. "Not bad with quarks huh?"

Sam looked over at him, then went back to staring at the elevator doors. "Excellent."

Fidgeting, Jack shoved his hands back into his pants pockets to try to still his fingers. "A bit uncomfortable isn't it?"

"Yeah, a bit," she agreed.

Thankfully, they'd reached level 28, and Jack practically dashed through the doors. "Good luck," he called, as Sam quickly pressed a button on the control panel.

"Thank you, Sir."

Sam's hands moved to cover her face, as the doors to the elevator slid shut. She could feel the heat emanating from her cheeks, increasing her mortification as the general's words echoed in her mind.

_"A bit uncomfortable, isn't it?"_

"Ya think?" she voiced to the empty car.

This wasn't how she'd planned on telling him. Not that she had planned anything. After all, there was no reason for her to have to make a declaration, was there? She owed him nothing, no explanations, no excuses. So why did she feel as if she'd somehow betrayed him?

How many times had Jack told her to get a life? Well, now she was working on that and she'd be damned if she was going to apologize for it. Pete was witty, attractive, in a quirky sort of way, and normal. Okay, more normal than most men she had contact with, she qualified. He made her forget about the SGC. The inherent problems with alien technology, if the weather was going to be hospitable on the next planet they journeyed to, or if Daniel was going to have a breakthrough with his dreams. He made her think of terrestrial things like buying movie tickets, talking a walk in the park, and dinner dates with dancing.

Sam sighed as she thought of that last reference. She'd loved her date with Pete. From getting dressed up, to a delightful dinner, to helping Harry and Mary celebrate their fiftieth wedding anniversary at the dance hall. There was only one drawback. The man in the tuxedo at her door was a shade too short and his hair didn't have a single strand of silver in it.

She'd had a good time—she was humming after all—but she couldn't say her mind hadn't strayed to how the evening would have been so much better if her escort had been someone else.

"Different," she said aloud. "Not better, different." There was no way to deny, even to herself, she hadn't thought of Jack that night. However, she could deny it would have been better. In the first place, dancing probably wasn't the colonel's style. He probably would have offered some sporting event as a date before he would have asked her out to dance.

_It was his loss,_ she thought, crossing her arms. _I looked damn good and he missed it. _Again her mind drifted and she thought of Jack on her doorstep taking in her appearance as Pete had. No doubt he would have had a similar reaction, but his eyes and slow grin would have been the only evidence of his approval. Pete's effusive compliments were great for her ego, but the colonel's subtle response would have felt more sincere.

"Stop it," she chastised herself. She didn't know how she was going to achieve it, but "Jack O'Neill" had to be crossed off the list of possibilities in her life. Sam doubted they would have a chance, even if they weren't in the same command structure. She knew he was attracted to her, but did it go beyond that? Given a second chance, would he want to be with someone with the potential to wound him as Sara and Charlie had? Or would it be a case of "been there, done that," and he'd be satisfied with keeping her at a distance?

Shaking her head, Sam decided while Pete wasn't perfect, he was an option, and if she truly **did** want "normal," he was her best chance of achieving it.

Jack slumped into a chair in the commissary. At times like this there was only one thing that could help ease the pain that hadn't left his chest since Carter had said the fateful word: PETE. That one thing was cake. A huge, honkin' piece of triple layer chocolate cake. And coffee. A mug of excessively strong coffee to balance the intense sweetness of God's gift to culinary perfection.

_Not a bad description_, he gloated, taking a bite of the cake following with his coffee chaser. He took another forkful, but the spasm in his chest hadn't eased. Damn. _This was going to be a tough one if cake didn't help._

Laying down his fork, Jack leaned back in his chair wondering at his loss of appetite. _What the hell did you expect? That she'd wait for you to get your act together? There's not that much time in the universe. _Jack sighed and began tracing patterns in the icing smeared on his plate. Of course she'd take an opportunity at a normal life when it was presented to her. She wasn't stupid after all.

He chuckled at that. Carter stupid. It was the one thing she'd never be accused of. What would be stupid would be her waiting for him.

Jack suspected PETE was closer to her age, but he didn't know for sure. There would be some irony for you! One of the things he was most insecure about when it came to Carter was the difference in their ages. Wouldn't it be ironic if she'd taken up with some other old guy!

She'd said "cop." Unless this guy had a desk job, he was probably around her age. Plus the fact he was a friend of her brother's. Wasn't Mark only like two years older than her or something? Not that he couldn't have an older friend, but chances were PETE was a contemporary. That made Jack's heart slow slightly. He didn't know why the thought of PETE being older would add insult to injury, but it had.

One of the cafeteria workers passed him, then came back. "Is everything okay, Sir?"

Jack looked up at the young man. _Line servers were psychic now? _ "Um, yeah. Why do you ask?"

"Well, forgive me, sir, but I've never seen you leave cake on your plate. Is there something wrong with it?"

Jack glanced at his plate. The dessert looked as though it had been tortured. Repeatedly stabbed and disseminated across the china. "No, it was fine. I guess I just wasn't as hungry as I thought." The Airman nodded and cleared the dishes, leaving him with his coffee. Taking a sip of the cooling beverage, Jack sighed. No Carter and no cake.

2

Sam was hunched over the latest piece of tech SG11 had brought back, when a noise behind her made her jump.

"Guilty conscience, Carter?"

Sam's heart was racing and she wasn't sure if it was from being startled or the fact Jack's quiet voice had a low, sexy quality that always went straight through her. "No, Sir," she said, sitting up, stretching her back. "I just wasn't expecting anyone."

"Too busy humming to hear me behind you, I suppose."

Sam grimaced. It had been nearly two weeks since the incident in the elevator, but she should have known he wouldn't let the subject drop. "Not that it matters, but I was busy concentrating, not humming."

Jack nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets and rocking to and fro on his restless feet. She continued to stare at him, and when he remained silent she prompted,

"Was there something you wanted, Sir?"

"As a matter of fact, there is." He seemed nervous, she realized, and wondered why. Sam raised her eyebrows, inviting him to continue.

"I know it's Friday, which is usually a date night, but Teal'c has his heart set on watching 'Star Wars.' Again." Sam couldn't help smiling at the exasperation in his tone. "Daniel's coming by and I was wondering if you would like to join us. Make it a real team gathering," he added.

"It sounds like fun," she began, wishing she hadn't already made plans. "But. . ."

"Ah!" he cut her off. "No need to explain. I'm sure you and Paul have better things to do."

"Pete."

"Huh?"

"Pete. His name is Pete, and you know it," she said. "Sir." Sam heard him clear his throat and watched as he cast his gaze around her lab, searching for another topic. She knew the technique. It was one he often employed when he'd run up against a wall in his conversations.

"So, whatcha working on?" Sam decided to buy into his segue, and allow herself to be distracted. Jack would call Pete "Paul" the next time his name came up, and she would correct him, and the cycle would begin again.

"It's rather fascinating," she said, finding herself getting caught up in her favorite subject, ignoring the way Jack's eyes glazed over as she launched into an explanation. "Lebowitz from SG 11 thinks it's some type of recorder, but I think it's a communication device specifically aimed at. . ."

Jack put up his hand forestalling a longer recitation of her theory. "I'll wait for the report. I don't want you spoiling the end for me." He had a grin on his face, softening his sarcasm.

She couldn't resist grinning herself. "Yes, sir."

Jack headed for the door. "Look, if your plans change. . . ."

Sam nodded. "I'll keep it in mind. Thank you for the offer, sir."

Jack sat on his couch, a beer dangling from his fingers by its long neck. Teal'c was at his side, so engrossed in some light saber battle, he didn't even look up as Jack stood to get another beer. Daniel was in the chair next to the sofa. He had already passed out, although Jack realized he'd probably just fallen asleep. After all, he doubted a person could "pass out" from one beer. He knew the man was exhausted. Between the dark circles under his eyes and the constant yawning, even he realized Daniel hadn't been sleeping. Teal'c, Carter and Daniel himself had talked to him about it, but no one had any ideas what to do about it. So Jack let him sleep, feeling as though he was his own little island, sandwiched between colleagues.

It was times like this Jack really missed Sam and the company she provided. The scenario wasn't an uncommon one. Teal'c would be totally engrossed in some movie, usually Star Wars, and Daniel would be asleep. She'd be sitting on the other side of Teal'c on the sofa, looking bored. She would obviously be thinking of something else, probably mentally dissecting alien technology, until she couldn't take the banality of the movie any longer. She'd stand, start to gather empties and this time Teal'c would look up from the television. He'd realize Daniel had fallen asleep and offer to take him home, using any chance he could to test out his newly acquired driver's license. Sam would assure him she wasn't far behind; she was just going to help Jack tidy up.

Neither he nor she would move very fast, they'd joke about Daniel's inability to hold his liquor, and other safe topics, until she'd announce she should be leaving. He'd offer her a final soda for the road, and she'd pretend to think about it before accepting.

They'd sit next to each other on the sofa now, but still at a respectable distance. He'd offer another movie, and she'd sigh and agree, dreading the next guy-centric title. He'd pull out a DVD case and slip the disc into the machine, waiting for her reaction. Instead of clips of explosions or bar room brawls prefacing the film, there would be swelling romantic music, shots of misty scenery and a picture of two nearly kissing actors.

Jack would rant, pretending he had **not** rented such romantic swill. Cursing, he would wonder aloud how the wrong movie had ended up in his case, launching into a diatribe about what he would do to the kid at the video store. Sam would smile and feign belief he was outraged.

"You could always join the twenty-first century and download from Netflix or Amazon or. . ." she'd start to tell him, but he'd cut her off with,

"Then who would I yell at when I got the wrong movie?" They'd continue to bicker good naturedly until the movie started when she would slide down on the couch, head cradled by the back rest and he would do the same, and if he slid closer to her in the process, neither of them would acknowledge it.

Jack held back the sigh that wanted to escape. That was how it should be. How **they** should be. Now it would never be. She'd found Mr. Normal. He couldn't bring himself to think of PETE as Mr. Right, for even though she'd been humming over the guy, something still felt off. It was almost as if she were trying _too_ hard.

It wasn't that he thought the humming was for his benefit. He believed she genuinely hadn't realized she'd been singing to herself. It was in the days since he'd gotten the feeling she wasn't one hundred percent invested. It was more like Pete was her last-chance date for the prom. She would go, and she would like it, come hell or high water. It was this presumption that gave him a sliver of hope. She was just seeing the guy, so Jack wasn't down for the count yet, was he?

Just then Daniel stirred, rubbing his eyes and producing a jaw-cracking yawn. He still seemed half asleep as he reached for his water next to his beer. Looking over at Jack and Teal'c, he spoke the sentiment they all shared but none had voiced.

"Sam should be here."

The phone was on the fourth ring when Sam managed to snag the receiver before the answering machine kicked in.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Babe, it's Pete." Sam grit her teeth. As if there were any doubt when he called her by the ridiculous pet name. No one else she knew would have had the nerve to call her something so belittling. Okay, she was thinking Jack. She couldn't imagine him calling her by any sort of pet name.

"Look, I know we had plans, but something's come up. There's been a breakthrough on the case I've been working on and they need me to stay at the station and take this guy's deposition."

"It's okay. I understand."

"If I could get out of it, you know I would," he persisted.

"Pete, it's all right!" she practically shouted at him to get him to stop apologizing. "It's not like I don't understand job related emergencies."

"Yeah, I know. There seems to be a lot of emergency radar telemetry going on at Cheyenne," he quipped.

"Pete. . . ."

"Oh, gotta go. I'll make it up to you, Sam. I promise." She could sense he was about to add the words "love you" to the end of his sentence, and she quickly broke in with,

"I'll see you later. Bye," hanging up before he could slide the words into the end of his call. Sam exhaled as she replaced the handset. She didn't know why she didn't want to hear the sentiment. What woman didn't want to hear that someone loved her? Every time she was sure Pete was going to utter the words, she panicked. She didn't want to hear them. With every near-utterance she felt herself being driven further and further away from Jack.

So why wasn't she welcoming that fact? She wanted to move on with her life, and Pete was the way she could accomplish that goal. Jack never actually _said_ there was no chance for them, but he hadn't intimated there would be a "some day" either. It was the limbo that was driving her mad. If she had one shred of concrete evidence Jack O'Neill would be an option in the future, she'd send Pete packing tomorrow. What did that say about their relationship?

Looking at the clock, Sam could see it was still early. Early enough to make it over to Jack's. She wanted to. She loved the times they spent outside of work, when they were all together in a relaxed atmosphere. Especially precious was the time she got to spend with Jack.

He was an enigma. Colonel O'Neill was not the same person as Jack O'Neill. The few rare glimpses she got of the man behind to title at the SGC only served to intrigue her. It was when they gathered at his house for movie nights she saw more of the true man he was when he checked the Colonel at the door.

_I could join them,_ she thought. _I was invited. _True, she'd have to put up with Jack's teasing her about the cop standing her up, but she could handle that. She went for her jacket, then stopped herself. What was she hoping to gain by going over to his house? That suddenly tonight he was going to tell her to drop the cop and wait for him? He would never be so straight foreword. If he was, if he ever **had** been, she wouldn't be in this situation. Trying desperately to find a life that resembled the American dream.

Sam put her coat back in the closet, and moved on to the refrigerator, pulling a beer from the bottom shelf. Even her choice of beverage had "Jack" written all over it. Not only was it the brand he preferred, it was the type of alcohol he opted for when he relaxed.

Opening the bottle, Sam leaned against the counter and took a long draught of her beer. She stood there for a few moments, her mind curiously blank. She knew what she had to do, but was resisting. Her mind replaying the scene she had conjured when she'd been injured on the _Prometheus. _Jack sitting on the floor before her, assuring her, _"I'm a safe bet."_

"Some safe bet," she mused, crossing into the living room, taking a seat on her sofa. If he was such a safe bet, why didn't she know how he _truly_ felt? Pete wasn't nearly so guarded with his emotions. Sam had no doubt where she stood with him.

Jack was always with her, she realized, because she wouldn't let him go. Sam couldn't conceive of a time she wouldn't want him, wouldn't want to be with him. But she had to. Together without him wasn't a way to live. Hadn't the last few years proven that? Pete wasn't her ideal, but he was the best she had. She owed it to herself to give their relationship her best effort.

3

Jack stood in the doorway of the infirmary. _Stupid damn cop,_ he thought, watching Pete and Sam as she quietly explained where he was and how he'd come to be there. That wasn't all of it, he knew, because he'd been the one to get her permission to tell the idiot most of the story.

Jack didn't want Sam to know he'd been her champion. He'd gone to Hammond even before the op where the Stupid Damn Cop had messed things up. He had finally swallowed his bitter, little pill. Carter was moving on, and he owed it to her to help facilitate that. Lord knew it was the last thing he wanted, but he **did** want her happiness, and if that meant the cop, so be it.

She was smiling at some crack Pete had made, and the worst of it was, she was giving the putz _his_ smile. The one, in the past, she'd reserved for him alone. _In the past_, he thought. As in past tense, as in no longer his to worry about other than in a professional capacity.

Jack swallowed against the pain. He knew this day would come, and he thought he was ready for it, but, oh, he was **so** not prepared for the agony of it. How was he going to stand seeing them together in the future? It wasn't just Pete, it was anyone she looked at that way. Anyone that wasn't him. He knew then and there he was always going to love her, regardless of who was in her life.

Moving down the hallway, Jack gave Sam some privacy, and himself a respite. He could only take so much in-your-face evidence she'd chosen someone else. He needed to find a way to get past this, he realized. To find a way to strike a balance of working with her and not caring so much. To learn how to be together, without her. No doubt it would be the toughest challenge he'd ever faced.

The End


End file.
